


what am i defending now?

by SeeTheVision



Series: folklore [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Heartbreak, Inspired by Taylor Swift, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26280064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeTheVision/pseuds/SeeTheVision
Summary: Renjun made him feel sonormal,like a boy with no crown and no title and no crushing weight on his shoulders.He would give anything, his throne, his kingdom, all his riches just to be that boy again. To be a boy in love and nothing more.Oh, but isn’t it ironic? With all his power and gold, the one thing he cannot buy is the one thing he longs for.Love is the only luxury beyond his reach.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Series: folklore [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872076
Comments: 26
Kudos: 80





	what am i defending now?

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by exile by taylor swift and bon iver
> 
> (this work is the third in a series, i recommend reading the other two first!)

_You're not my homeland anymore_

_So what am I defending now?_

_You were my town, now I'm in exile seein' you out_

Jaemin wakes and immediately wishes he was still asleep. He keeps his eyes closed, desperately clinging to the fragments of his dream—gentle fingers threading through his hair, moonlight dancing across high cheekbones and a teasing smile, the feeling of a calloused hand clasped in his own—but they dissolve under the light of dawn like morning dew.

***

“We’ll rest here for the night and take the mountain pass tomorrow,” the captain of the guard announces as they reach a small town on the coastline, only a few miles from the mountain range that separates the Southern Kingdom from the Northern. Although the weather is already warm back in the capital, winter’s icy claws still grip the world this far from the equator. Jaemin shivers, tugging his cloak tighter around him.

“Is there an inn in town?” he asks as his horse’s hooves move from dirt to cobblestone, already imagining a hot bath and a warm bed—although he doubts he’ll sleep any better here than at the palace.

“There, your highness,” one guard answers, pointing to a sturdy stone building, one of the largest in the village. A row of stables lines a modest courtyard, in the middle of which is a well. A young man turns the lever, drawing water with practiced movements.

Jaemin’s blood runs cold as the well-water. It can’t be. His mind is playing tricks on him, or perhaps this is another dream, because the boy at the well has a delicate build, high cheekbones, rosy lips that Jaemin sees every time he closes his eyes. Jaemin pinches his arm hard and it hurts, the pain overshadowed by the aching of his shattered heart when it confirms that, no, this isn’t a dream. 

A second man appears, taking a pail of water in each hand, and Renjun looks up. There’s a flush across his cheeks from the cold and his eyes glitter like the sea. He says something to the other man, and Jaemin recognizes the particular shape of his mouth when he’s trying hard not to smile.

And somehow, that hurts worst of all. Renjun is here, and Renjun is _happy._

***

It’s been months since Renjun left the palace, but Jaemin’s eyes still search for him, expect to see him around every corner. The rainy season descends upon them, droplets pelting the windows, and Jaemin wonders if Renjun is sleeping somewhere warm and dry.

The stone corridors are empty, populated only by the ghost of Renjun’s presence. 

When the first messenger makes it through the thawing mountain pass, bearing an invitation to spend the summer with the royal family of the Northern Kingdom, Jaemin doesn’t hesitate to say yes.

***

Jaemin clears his throat. “Excuse me, sir?”

The innkeeper whirls around, nearly dropping a bottle of ale in his surprise, then dips into a hasty bow. “My apologies, your highness, I didn’t realize you had approached.”

A memory strikes with the force of a sword blow, of a different boy with wide eyes and a much more graceful bow, surrounded by rose bushes.

“Your highness?” The man’s eyes are wary, nearly as dark as his hair as he studies Jaemin like he expects the prince to attack at any moment.

Wrenching himself away from the past, Jaemin offers a diplomatic smile. “I apologize for startling you… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Jeno, your highness, I’m the innkeeper here. Is there a problem with the food?”

“No, no, everything is delightful,” Jaemin assures truthfully. He’s fond of commoner fare, rough bread and hearty stews, although his stomach is tied in knots tonight, ever since… “There was a man in the courtyard earlier, at the well. Do you know where I can find him?”

"I don't know who you're referring to," says the innkeeper. His eyes are hard, as though daring Jaemin to contradict him, but his hands grip the edge of the bar, as if in an attempt to keep them from trembling. _He's afraid,_ Jaemin realizes.

"I'm not going to take him away," says Jaemin. Oh, he wants to. He wants to find Renjun and sweep him off to somewhere he'd never slip away again. But... 

"He seems happy here," Jaemin admits, the words burning his tongue as he forces them out. "Happier than I could make him."

Jeno tilts his head, eyes boring into Jaemin’s as though trying to find guile there. After a few moments, he sighs. “He always said you were a good man. I wanted so much to hate you, but it seems he was right.”

"You love him." It's not a question but a fact; Jaemin knows what it is to love Renjun. He saw the way Jeno's eyes clung to him in the courtyard by the well, recognized the softness that had so often graced his own features when Renjun turned that particular look on him.

“I do,” admits Jeno, and in that moment, they are not a prince and his subject. An understanding passes between them, and Jaemin knows that they are the same.

“Do something for me, Jeno,” Jaemin pleads, grasping Jeno’s hand. “Love him more than I could.”

***

_What did you hope would happen?_ Renjun had demanded that night, before he disappeared. The question echoes in Jaemin’s head in the hours past midnight, when he has no royal duties to distract him.

He should have known that associating with Renjun would bring only misery to the two of them. It was just the sort of boyish foolishness that a prince should never fall prey to, and Jaemin can only blame himself.

Renjun made him feel so _normal,_ like a boy with no crown and no title and no crushing weight on his shoulders.

He would give anything, his throne, his kingdom, all his riches just to be that boy again. To be a boy in love and nothing more.

Oh, but isn’t it ironic? With all his power and gold, the one thing he cannot buy is the one thing he longs for.

Love is the only luxury beyond his reach.

***

The room is cozy in a way the palace never is, but there’s an air of familiarity that takes Jaemin a moment to pinpoint. 

The placement of the water jug on the left side of the washbasin. The curtain cord tied in a dainty bow. The particular way the sheets are tucked at the foot of the bed. 

The tiny piece of silver glinting on the pillow.

All the air in Jaemin’s lungs leaves him in a rush. His legs nearly buckle as he forces them to carry him to the bed.

An emerald glints innocently, the color of envy. Jaemin cradles the ring to his chest, picturing how it would have looked on Renjun’s slim finger. His hands had placed it here, his hands turned down the sheets and smoothed the quilt. He’s in this building at this very moment, closer than he’s been in months. 

Jaemin could find him; he could order his guards to search the inn. He could break down every door and no one could stop him.

But he remembers his own words from so long ago: _There are a lot of things I’d like to order you to do, Renjun, but I won’t._

He slips the ring onto his own finger and puts out the lantern.

***

Jaemin knocks gently on the door of Renjun’s room. Although the sun is barely rising, the servants’ quarters are already bustling with activity. Somehow, he’d managed to sneak through without detection, but he throws caution to the wind, knocking louder, nearly pounding on the door.

“Renjun?” he calls.

He never receives an answer.

***

Jaemin allows himself one more moment of weakness as he mounts his horse in the morning chill. His eyes rake the windows of the inn, desperate for just one more glimpse of the face that haunts him with every breath. He imagines he can hear Renjun’s heartbeat through the stone walls, calling out for him—but it’s just the protests of his own heart, broken and bloody and yet somehow still demanding. Renjun is nowhere to be seen. Jaemin is alone.

As he turns his face resolutely toward the snow-capped mountains, the already splintered thing inside him shatters further, all sharp edges and icy cold.

He’d left the palace days ago, but only now does Jaemin feel as though he’s leaving his home behind.

**Author's Note:**

> (p.s. there may be one more part in this series if i ever get around to writing it)


End file.
